So This Is What Love Feels Like
by spiritrush
Summary: Based on A Very Potter Musical. What happened after the musical ended? Where did Voldemort and Quirrell's relationship go? Contains SLASH, LV/QQ. Cute and sweet. :  Rated for some brief language and slash, of course.


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or A Very Potter Musical. Please don't sue me, my mom will kill me. D:

**A/N: This is my first fanfic EVER, so please give me some feedback. It will really make my day. :) Constructive criticism is welcome, however, flames are not.**

**This will probably be weird/not make sense unless you've seen A Very Potter Musical (which is supermegafoxyawesomehot, btw). Also, this contain SLASH, meaning men loving men. Don't like it? Click the back button. **** Otherwise, onward!**

Voldemort's eyes fluttered open. As cliché as it was, his first thought was, _Where the hell am I?_ Dark, moldy walls… prison gates…

Then he realized there was a warmth pressed gently against him. He looked down to see the sleeping body of Quirinus Quirrell, curled up into his chest. Voldemort couldn't help but smile down at him. He looked so… peaceful. And happy. Like he wasn't in Azkaban for a crime he didn't commit.

The ex-Dark Lord (for he had no wishes to cause evil and mayhem anymore) bit his lip. Quirrell was here, in the wretched place, because of _him_. He had betrayed the one he loved…

Voldemort widened his eyes. Did he really just think what he thought he did? He swallowed. Yes. And it was true. He had actually _fallen in love_. With a man. With Quirrell.

Oh, how unexpected life was.

"Quirrell. Quirrell, wake up. Quirrell! I need to talk to you."

The ex-professor felt someone shaking him. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his mind of fogginess. He had slept so soundly last night; better than ever before while in Azkaban. Though he was pretty sure he had had another dream of Voldemort – the damn bastard. Wait…

When Quirrell's eyes fully opened, the first thing he saw none other than Voldemort himself. Suddenly, last night's events flooded back to him.

"Good morning," Voldemort told him softly.

"Wh – when did I fall asleep? What happened? I just remember you coming back… and then there was a slow-motion running thing… and…"

"We stayed like that for awhile," Voldemort smiled. "And I think we just… drifted off."

Quirrell just nodded. So many thoughts were running through his mind… Voldemort has here, with him… "I came home," he had said…

Voldemort extended his hand to Quirrell. "Get up! I need to talk to you."

The inmate grimaced a little at his ex-master's harsher tone. He took Voldemort's hand – Merlin, he hated how it suddenly make his heart beat a little faster – and stood up. "Y-yes?" he asked, his worry for what was about to come ringing in his voice.

Voldemort's face suddenly turned concerned. "Quirrell? What's the matter?"

"Oh, nothing…" he replied, eyes on the cold prison floor. "Just waiting for you to push me away, telling me last night was a fluke and you want nothing to do with me… an… and…"

"Quirrell! Do you really have that little faith in me?" Voldemort was honestly hurt. He had screwed up, but he thought that last night, Quirrell had understood…

"N-no…" Curse his damn stutter. "I just understand if you don't want to be around a sissy-loser like me." Quirrell tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but he couldn't. His breathing was too shallow, his heart was thumping too loudly…

"Quirrell," Voldemort said tenderly. "The only reason I'm still here is because of _you_."

The ex-professor felt Voldemort's cool hands lift his head up by his chin. He internally gasped when his eyes met Voldemort's; the latter's eyes were filled with emotions so deep and raw, emotions that weren't of hate or disgust… it was shocking, even for Quirrell.

"You've changed me for the better, Quirrell. I'm experiencing feelings that I've never felt before."

Quirrell had practically stopped breathing now. His heart was beating even fasting – however, there now was a hope emerging in his eyes.

"Because of you, I now feel concern… compassion… and… lo…" Voldemort sighed, looking down, and then raising his head again to lock eyes with Quirrell. "Love."

There was a moment of silence. Voldemort looked tentatively at Quirrell, but the latter was seemingly frozen with an openmouthed smile on his face.

"Well?" Voldemort asked finally, voice still soft.

"… Oh, Voldemort!" Quirrell exclaimed, running at him.

"OOMPF!" Voldemort grunted in surprise as Quirrell rammed into him, crushing the ex-Dark Lord in a hug.

"Wha… what is this? Are you trying to suffocate me?" he asked seriously, his voice back to his normal tone (though it wasn't scornful and descending anymore).

Quirrell released him, laughing. "It's called a hug, Voldemort. It's usually used to express love."

"…Oh," he responded, followed by two nods. "Yes, very good. Well, I rather like these _hugs_."

"Indeed. And this," Quirrell said, feeling an unusual rush of confidence, "is a kiss."

Before Voldemort could respond, Quirrell had taken his past Lord by the base of his neck and pulled him forward, placing his lips on the Voldemort's.

The kiss was short, only a few seconds in reality, but it was sweet and soft and everything that Voldemort had never felt before. The understanding and acceptance, the honest and unlikely love, it was all captured in that one brief kiss.

Next thing he knew, Quirrell had pulled and now it was _his_ turn to be frozen.

"Uh… um," Quirrell mumbled, head down. "S-sorry 'bout that, Vo-"

"Quirrell." Voldemort placed his hand on Quirrell's shoulder reassuringly. "It's okay. It's good, it's _wonderful_," he smiled, quoted their conversation from the previous night. "I – I liked it."

Quirrell had lifted his head and a smiled stretched across his face.

_Merlin, he's cute when he smiles like that,_ Voldemort mused.

Once more, Quirrell flung his arms around Voldemort in a hug. "I – I love you Voldemort."

"I love you too, Quirrell," he breathed.

Before, Voldemort had missed the feeling of Quirrell on the back of his head. But now, he much preferred their chests pressed together, arms entwined around each other in a pure, loving hug.

**A/N: So, there you have it. Honestly, I think it seemed kinda rushed. :/ But let me know what YOU think! I would **_**really**_** appreciate it. **

**Also, do you think I should keep this as a oneshot, or continue the storyline? I had a few ideas in my brain – like how they manage to get out of Azkaban, where they go from there, etc. But, if nobody thinks it worth while, then I doubt I'll follow through.**

**Thanks again for reading and remember to review! :D**


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